How to Fail as a Huntress
by Fantabulasogurl
Summary: Life is messed up when an antelope guilts you into doing things. Jane doesn't miss her life before the hunt, in fact she's happy to put it all behind her, until a special assignment from Artemis sends her to her ex and high school classes. One boy in particular, seems determined to break Jane out of her hard exterior. Will she let him close enough to do just that?
1. Chapter 1

I'm a hunter of Artemis, supposedly, noble, never wavering, and forever proud; but I'm not that type of girl. Lady Artemis and Thalia are so brave and confident. Even the girls who came to the hunters insecure; after just a few days they weren't so afraid anymore. I wish I was like that. Gaining confidence was one of the main reasons that I joined the hunters; that and Zach…

I run my hands through my hair and look at my roommate (tent mate?). Michaela's one of the girls I envy so much. She has beautiful long brown hair and she's always looked like she knows how gorgeous she is. I'll never understand why she joined the hunters, she's always been extremely confident.

Suddenly, a black head of hair topped with a silver circlet tiara, popped through the silver canvas. Thalia Grace stood in the opening of the Tent. We immediately kneeled at her feet, bruising my shins in the process. If only being a huntress had fixed my clumsiness.

"Oh, stand up!" She complained, and I could effortlessly imagine her rolling her eyes. Thalia was famous for hating those niceties that Zoe had always encouraged. We reluctantly rose. "Yes, Thalia" Calling Thalia my lady or ma'am was a death wish. It felt weird to just call her Thalia though. Occasionally we called her Lieutenant, but for the most part, Thalia was just Thalia.

"Yes your grace?" Michaela asks. She hasn't even been here as long as I have, but she's already higher up in the rankings them me. Artemis asks for private audiences with Michaela almost once a week. She's never asked to speak to me, since I joined the Hunt. Thalia catches my eye and smiles.

"Actually, I'm here for Jane," Thalia announces and raises an eyebrow at me. "Lady Artemis would like to see you." I blush.

"Thank you, Thalia." I say, making myself stand a little straighter. I walk out of our tent, moving into the meadow we're currently camped in.

It's strange, we've been here for a few days, and normally we'd be on the move, or at least planning an attack on a monster, by now. It's not like we're at any remarkable landmark. When I mentioned my suspicions to Michaela, she didn't get it. I'm probably just over thinking it…

Artemis's tent is unremarkable from the outside, the same silver material of the rest the hunt, the only difference is it's slightly larger size. I take a deep breath and hold myself rigid, hoping to look confident; and self-assured. _What hokum… _I step through the entrance into the tent. I bow my head first without looking up.

"You wanted to speak to me, Lady Artemis?" I ask, I'm half wondering if Thalia pulled me in here by accident.

"Yes, Jane." Artemis sits with a gazelle stretched across her lap. I remember on my first day as a huntress, I almost had a heart attack when I found out they called the adorable creäture Fabio. Artemis shakes her brown bangs out of her eyes and blinks as I enter. The goddess appearance hints to her only being thirteen; then again, none of us are really who we seem.

As for me, I've only been in the Hunters for six months, so it's not like I would've aged that much anyways. Though, I had always held out hope that I'd get prettier as I got older. Unfortunately, that was never going to happen.

"You may have noticed something unusual?" She asks, lightly patting the spot across from her. A carefully lower myself on the silver tarp. Fabio licks my hand as I sit down and I affectionately scratch under his chin.

"Yes, Lady Artemis, I noticed we've stayed here longer than we normally would have." I murmur; a little relieved that I'm not paranoid. Artemis nods, proudly. I'm completely surprised that she's pleased; I'm certainly not the first, or the fastest to notice. I run my fingers through the tiger pelt on the tent wall beside me, anxiously.

"You've very observant, that will serve you well, if you accept my task." Artemis muses, mostly to herself. I blink and think over the fact that she might have just complemented me. Me, little old Jane, just earned praise from the goddess Artemis. Holy Hephaestus.

"Task?" I ask, tilting my head. It's starting to sound like she selected me for a job, but that could never happen. There are so many hunters that are better than me. Thalia, Brenda, Lena, Hadley, even Michaela could do a better job than me. It's like a punch to the gut as my pride takes the hit.

"Yes, I've been sensing something… whatever it is, it's not pleasant." Artemis grimaces. "The local high school is the source, if the aura I'm sensing is a monster, it's a strong one; but it could also be a very powerful demigod, or even a minor god." She explains. I study her expression, trying to understand the meaning behind her words. "I cannot enter the school myself, at least not without scaring them out-of-town. I need someone who can serve as my eyes, not get distracted, and not draw too much attention."

I swallow, understanding why she chose me. _Not draw too much attention_. I'm not pretty or interesting enough for anyone to care about me. That's why a girl like Thalia or Michaela couldn't help her. I look down, biting my lip and fighting back tears. Even with the hunters, with immortality and confidence at my side, I'm still not special. Zach's word still dig into my heart, ripping it to shreds despite how hard I'm fighting to keep it together.

"Do you accept?" Artemis asks, lifting her eyebrows, daring me to disregard the honor she just bestowed upon me. My heart stops as I think about it, the challenges ahead of me.

"Of course my lady," I murmur, bowing my head. I'm the image of modesty,the downcast eyes and the slight blush on my cheeks. Modesty was never my problem though.

"I'll take you today, to sign you up." Artemis announces, standing, and before my eyes, shifting into a middle-aged woman. Even a little older, Artemis is still gorgeous. Her hairs a little longer, and she's about five foot six. She towers over my puny five foot three.

"What will you tell the other hunters?" I ask, standing quickly. I can feel myself almost stumble again

"The truth," Artemis exclaims, turning towards me with shock written clearly across her face. "What else?" I shrug, a little surprised by her answer. "You should go change." I glance down at my silver snowboarding jacket and jeans. She just tilts her head and frowns, I shrug heading back to my tent a little nervously.

My mind races through all the different possibilities as I change into a plain white t-shirt: a threat so powerful that Artemis was afraid to spook it. It's probably just a little monster, I'll just go in, spot it, and bring the hunters on the trail. I don't want to think too hard about the possibility that the aura is from a minor god, or even a very powerful demigod.

Not many demigods met me, I had never reached camp, but that would be a much harder situation. The mist I can see through as a hunter but I'm not a human lie detector, I can't pick deceptions out of thin air and a god, even a minor god would be way more powerful. I sigh and grab my backpack, stocked with my usual throwing knives and essentials. Time to start my first day as a normal high school girl.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

I stare at my schedule blankly, still not fully contemplating the fact that I'm back in high school. God, I joined the hunters to stay out of all of this. The cliques, the drama, the big dreams getting crushed, and the attractive get everything they want, while the average suffer: I never wanted this.

"Hey new girl" An arrogant voice says, drawls, leaning against the locker beside mine, as I struggle to open this stupid combo lock. I finally kick the metal door with my sneaker, hoping that will help.

"Hey," I mutter, finally getting the stupid lock to work. I finally look up at the overtly friendly labradoodle standing beside me. He's talking to me, I'm sure, but I can't hear him. Instead I spot two guys walking down the hallway. They high-five jovially and laugh before continuing and dividing. My eyes lock on the taller of the two, with long blonde hair, and blue eyes. He has broad shoulders and is way taller than me. I recognize him immediately, _Zach_. The bane of my existence, the cause of the ache in my heart, the catalyst in my joining the hunters, is standing twenty feet from me and hasn't noticed. My heart stops and I instantly fall into a flash back, relieving the worst few moments of my immortal life.

…

His hands are hot and searing on my bare back. He runs his fingers up and down my spine, sending sparks and goose bumps traveling along my skin. Skimming his lips over my neck, he tries to drive me insane and I can't help but moan quietly. Only he can do this to me, only he can drive me this crazy. He pulls me flush against his chest and I dig my nails into his shoulders. His mouth skims my sensitive skin at my throat and jaw, slowly making his way back to my lips.

"Oh Zach…" I pant right before he kisses me. His lips press firmly against mine, passion and fire spreading through me. I lean back and looked him in the eyes. My heart jumps and I know I'm finally going to say it. "I'm falling in love with you." I confess. Zach froze, and looked down, avoiding my eyes. My stomach lurches nauseatingly.

"You don't have to say it back," I assure him, tears pricking my eyes. I thought, I thought… He gently guides me out of his lap, and slips his hands out of the back of my shirt. I blink, my heart aching as it tears in half. I always thought that was dramatic, a breaking heart, but now I know just how true it is.

"Jane, I really do care about you," He promises and the first tears slide out, guessing his next words. "It was stupid, a huge mistake, but I cheated on you. I hooked up with Madison at a party last week." He admits and all traces of hope disappear in puff of smoke. I shake my head and scramble even farther away from him. I'm revolted just looking at him; I'll never look at him the same way ever again. He can't take this back.

"No… No!" I shriek flying out of the back of his car. He scrambles out after me, reaching for me and begging for forgiveness. I shake my head, horrified. We had been together for almost two years. We were planning on going to the same college, we were supposed to live happily ever after as the golden couple. I take off, running down the street towards home. Stumbling I kick off my heels and pick them up. Tires squeal on the wet asphalt as Zach pulls his car up beside me.

"Don't be stupid Jane, let me drive you home." He orders. Feigning deaf, I continue down the street, refusing to look at him. "You're going to get sick in the cold."He reminds me and I lose it.

"DO YOU REALLY THINK I CARE RIGHT NOW?" I shriek, indignant in my fury. Zach flinches, hurt by my harsh words.

"I'm so sorry, I screwed up. c'mon, let's talk about this." He pleads and opens his passenger door for me. I almost want to slide in beside him, to let it go and get my happily ever after. A tear slides down my cheek and I lock eyes with him. The pain fades for a split second and indignation takes it place. Shaking my head, I bite my trembling lip before answering.

"Go to hell Zach." I snarl through my teeth, my eyes narrowing. Zach shakes his head and refuses to leave me alone. The whole three miles home, he's right behind me; quiet except for the occasional plea for me to get in the car or to talk. The only response I give is when I slam the door, to my tiny cottage, behind me: tears streaming down my face non-stop.

…

In a panic, I search the walls around me, there's no way I could've been that obtuse. My eyes finally land on the painted letters on the wall in front of me "Welcome to Paxton High." Paxton, Colorado, the very town that Zach moved to shortly after our break up. _OF_ _ALL THE ROTTEN LUCK!_

"You okay?" The guy beside me asks. The look in his eyes suggests he's speaking to a complete and total lunatic. He probably guessed right too. At this point, I'm completely and totally crazy.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Tell me, what's that guy's name?" I ask, just checking, who knows he could be Zach's awesome identical twin brother, who Zach doesn't know about, and never met because he moved out of Paxton after ten minutes of being here.

"Which one, Zach or Marcus?" labradoodle-boy asks. I pinch the bridge of my nose in exasperation.

"Never mind." I sigh. This is going to go so epically wrong.

…

Walking into my Honors Math class, I can't help the sense of dread the pools in my stomach. It's not just because I can't stand math either. My suspicions appear precisely right, too. The moment I stumble into the classroom, I spot Zach's friend from earlier, Marcus. In contrast to Zach, Marcus is lean muscled, a bit shorter, with dark hair and eyes. He grins and winks at me as I walk by, but I'm careful to keep my expression stoney. I take a seat in the very back of class, determined to just get through this whole twisted mission and go back to the Hunters.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A slip of paper lands on my desk; I snap up and the guy in front of me, Marcus, withdraws his hand. Rolling my eyes, I hesitantly unfold the paper and read it over quickly.

_"What brings you to my neck of the woods?"_ The handwriting is uneven and jagged. Considering the point of Artemis chosing me was I blend in, I'm getting a ridiculous amount of attention: first labradoodle boy and now this moron.

I momentarily consider scribbling the truth and handing the note back, and can't help but laugh under my breath. He turns for a second, and raises an eyebrow obviously wondering what's so funny. He doesn't get an answer because I'm too busy doing a mental checklist in my brain: is he a monster thinly shrouded in mist? nope. Is he a god, reeking of aura and power? reeking of axe maybe, but definitely not power. I wouldn't be able to tell if he was a demigod, not without more time so I just lounge back and scribble my reply on the paper.

_"Just moved to town_" my handwriting isn't even close to even or neat: in fact, a lot of people used to immediately suggest I become a doctor after seeing my penmanship. I bite my lip, wondering what I'm supposed to do. Artemis's instructions were just to keep my eyes open and find the source of her unease. The fact that I haven't a clue what I'm doing isn't helping matters much. The note returns to my desk, fluttering beside my new schedule, with the reply.

_"Well, no duh. I meant why on earth you'd choose to move here?"_ I don't like the attitude, I've always been a bit of a door mat, but I'm a Hunter of Artemis, I don't take that, especially not from a stupid guy. I crumple the sheet in my fist and sink it into the waste basket, perfect swish. Marcus doesn't react, though I'm positive he noticed. I cross my ankles and fold my hands under my chin, pretending that I'm positively mesmerized by Algebraic equations.

…

Timidly making my way into the cafeteria, the worst and most perplexing dilemma to hit new kids everywhere, hits me like a cinderblock. Where am I going to sit? Pushing the door open in front of me, I scan the tables. At this point I'm highly considering eating in the bathroom stall, like every bad chick flick you see. A hand brushes my arm and I whip my head around, sending my hair flying in crazy directions. Marcus stands there, smirking, like every other arrogant, self-centered; male I've ever met in my recently immortalized life.

I cross my arms over my chest, thinking that Artemis made the right decision sending me, Michaela would've stabbed him with her hunting knife (or her nail file, she doesn't have a preference) by now. I just glare, making sure he knows that I would love being _anywhere_ else now. He doesn't appear to get it in the slightest. He grins a little bigger, and I'm sure substitute teachers must run screaming from the room when they see that grin.

"You know, I like a fiery attitude in a girl." He tells me, smirking: I'm sure he must practice that smirk in the mirror, thinking "Aren't I all that and a bag of chips?" I'm not partial to his opinion. I raise my eyebrows and laugh, dismissally. The last thing I want is for Zach's new best friend hitting on me. Attempting to stay invisible, I spy him out of the corner of my eye: surrounded by girls in short skirts and guys in varsity jackets, surprise, surprise. I feel sick knowing I used to act like one of those girls: thank the gods that stage of my life is over.

"Really, it's a highly attractive quality." He informs me, trotting along beside me as I hustle to the lunch line. There's an elephant in the room: The moment Zach recognizes me, world war three is going to break out. Not much has changed about me physically since our break up, although I've been told I have the "happy without boys glow" (whatever that means). I know once he spots me, there's no turning back, so I'm trying to keep my head down, and to blend into the crowd as much as possible.

If I'm lucky, I'll spot the monster/ god/demigod, before Zach spots raking my eyes over the mass of teenagers, I come up empty, of course. No gods with multiple heads, or monsters without a distinguishable head, appear. I haven't observed all the teachers, but my gut says it's an extremely powerful demigod. Which means it could be literally, anyone, and I'm going to have to make my search a lot more in-dept. Another depressing realization is that I might have to actually _talk_ to people to weed out the demigod. I pinch the bridge of my nose in frustration and glance up.

"You haven't listened to a word I've said have you?" Marcus chuckles, I step forward, to move away, and manage to bump into the person ahead of me in line, and stumble backwards. Marcus snakes an arm out, around my waist, seemingly to steady me. My Hunter's instincts kick in, and I snap away; unfortunately Marcus doesn't seem to have any intention of letting me go anytime soon. He grips e tighter, making sure I can't get away.

"What the frig do you think you're doing?" I demand, practically hissing. He steps forward as the line moves, dragging me along by his side. He doesn't seem fazed by my protests in the slightest. He even smirks again, in triumph, it seems: he's gotten my attention.

"Right now… I'm making sure everyone here knows that I have dibs." He jerks his head as he speaks and tightens his grasp. "I want to make sure all these drooling guys know you're spoken for." Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him, positively furious. I don't do flirting, I don't do dibs and I certainly am not going to give up my vow to Artemis any time soon. Shifting my foot, I dig my heel into his arch, forcing him to release me, before striding forward. Like a boomerang, he's back within seconds.

"You're a pig; I bet you don't even know my name." I challenge, though I'm not sure why I'm even still talking to him. He smirks and I know right then I'm going to hate the next words out of his mouth.

"So why don't you tell me? You can even sit with us at lunch." He offers, and I hesitate, seriously debating taking the offer. I'm sure rejecting Marcus would make me stand out like a biker at a Justin Bieber concert, but I don't know if I could go through a whole lunch without decking him. Having a place to sit would be lovely though... His ebony eyes gleam in the dingy cafeteria lighting and he gestures toward Zach's table. "I usually sit over there, I'm sure they'd make room." He proposes, walking backwards so he can still talk to me, and keep up with the sluggish line. That makes my decision ridiculously simple.

"No way in hell."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

_**Marcus**_

I think I like this girl. I might be crazy, but as she brushes past me, to order her lunch, I can't help but conclude that I'm genuinely interested. That's kind of weird in itself, especially since I don't know her name. It's not just her figure or her appearance either, I like her spirit, that little fire-ball attitude. I'm not sure why she doesn't want to sit with me, even though I'm sure she seriously considered it. If she wasn't new, I'd say, that she said no because of my choice of friends.

That's definitely not possible though, the only new kid we've had in years, is Zach. I glance at the girl as she hands over her money to the lunch lady, skimming my eyes over her jeans and roomy plain white t-shirt. Yeah… no, there isn't chance in hell that she knows Zach. Handing over a few dollars to the lunch lady, I grab a tray with the usual lunch: "Chicken" and rice. I don't really care enough to wait in the salad line. She doesn't seem to care either, as she hurries to grab a milk carton out of the fridge, and places it beside the rice on her tray. Her head is down, as she hurries across the cafeteria, like a mouse. She's trying ridiculously hard to blend in for someone who stands out like a dolphin is the desert. I lengthen my stride a little and easily catch up with her.

"So, where are you planning on sitting?" I wonder when she stops dead center in the room, eyes carefully scouring the cafeteria for a friendly face. Her brown hair just brushing her shoulders; she peers out at me from behind the locks. She shrugs and looks away, apparently intent to avoid my eyes at all cost. Come on, it's not like I'm ugly.

"It's not like it's any of your business." She mutters, and I laugh a little. I've never been good at that whole "minding your own business" or "that's not my rabbit" stuff. My mom would always say that from the moment someone told me not to get involved, I'd be itching to stick my nose in the issue. "Curiosity killed the cat" is such a gross understatement.

"You know, it's okay to say yes, I'm not going to bite… just yet." I wink at her, hoping to get a laugh, or at least a smile, but she just frowns some more. I can see from the expression on her face, she picked out my little suggestion easily, she just couldn't care less. Abruptly, she starts across the café, completely and bluntly ignoring me.

She settles down at a table, staring down at her tray like the rest of her companions. There's a guy here with piercings along the curve of his ear, a girl with a Mohawk, and a guy who's fidgeting with one of those Lego people, and I swear I've never heard any of them speak aloud, ever. She doesn't fit in here, but as I glance over my shoulder at my table of friends, I can't picture her there. That shouldn't change anything, my friends are relatively nice people; I don't see why she's so determined to exile herself.

"Are you sure you don't want to sit with us?" I confirm, being careful to not insinuate that I if she said yes she'd be sitting with _me, _if that's what's offending her. She nods and looks down at her plate, poking her plastic rice with a cheap plastic spork. She best resembles a beaten dog, just wanting to get through the moment, and trying to not bring any more attention on itself, for fear of the retaliation when they make another mistake.

"What, are you into charity projects now, Adams?" Zach Woods asks, ambling over towards me. I swear sometimes he doesn't realize that just because people are a little… different, doesn't mean they don't speak English. He's a good guy, sometimes he doesn't realize just how painfully insensitive he sounds. I glance over at her, as her head pops up, just in time for Zach to stop dead in his tracks and stare, slack-jawed.

"Jane?" He sounds dubious and his eyes bulging out f his head in disbelief. I glance at the girl, whose name is apparently Jane, and see the blush burning on her face. She stands up, abandoning her uneaten food, and dashing off toward the girls' bathroom. Zach follows her, only stopping when she's disappeared behind the door. I watch as he messes up his hair with his fingers and shakes his head, clearly just as bewildered.

_**Jane**_

Hiding in the bathroom stall, I lean against the wall, my head in my hands. Just the way he said my name, the confused look on his face, brought back so many memories. The ache rips through my chest again, and I slump to the ground, torn between crying, puking and screaming. I can't do this, I can't sit here and pretend like I don't know him, like I can blend in, or keep my mind clear and focused. Artemis should never have selected me; anyone else could've done a better job than I'm doing now. Just seeing his face again, hearing his voice, was enough to send me spiraling back to that moment when the future I had so meticulously planned crashed around me. When I suddenly wasn't seeing a corsage and prom dresses anymore, they were destroyed leaving tear-stained pillows and a set of hunting knives in their place. I wasn't confident enough, not interesting enough to keep his attention. I had been naïvely sure that my happily ever after was at my finger tips, and not rotting in Tartarus with Kronos.

Tears streak down my face at a rapid rate, and I have to make a conscious effort to not sob. My one salvation is when lunch will be over, and then I can get the hell out of here, and ask for a replacement. I can't do this; I just can't put myself through the turmoil again. My new life has made me stronger and braver, but no matter how long I'm with the hunters, no matter how long I'm Sixteen, I won't be able to face Zach, never again.

_**Marcus **_

Half way through lunch, Zach finally leaves his post beside the girls' bathroom and joins us at the table. Even when he laughs at off, as a bizarre coincidence, he doesn't refrain from glancing over his shoulder every few seconds, waiting for Jane to magically reappear in the doorway. Refusing to explain, he has abruptly changed the subject four times, away from Jane. Every time I even make an attempt at digging a little deeper, his expression morphs into something like shame. Before long, lunch ends and I watch, a little hesitant as Zach glances at the bathroom one more time before cursing.

"I have Devil Lady next, I can't afford another tardy," He explains and starts hurrying down the hallway. "If you see Jane… just tell her we should talk." Something about the fond way he said her name doesn't sit well with me, but before I can investigate, he's gone, leaving me standing awkwardly in the middle of the aisle. I glance towards the girls room once more, only to see Jane slipping out, and merging with the crowd. I blink once before I realize that I'm following her, by chance actually, as we're heading in the same direction.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Jane

I glance over my shoulder and spot Marcus trailing behind me. What does it take to get rid of this guy? I bow my head, trying to blend in with the crowd, even though I have to keep stopping and checking my schedule to figure out where the hell I'm going. It doesn't help much that my face feels like a tomato from all the crying. My chest still aches but I didn't become a hunter of Artemis because I'm weak. Before long, Marcus has caught up to me.

"Hey" He murmurs; not looking at me directly. Strutting a little faster, I pull my books closer to my chest, like a safety net. "What's the connection between you and Zach?" He wonders, with all the tact of the average Gorilla, socialite he is not. I glare at him, channeling my inner Thalia, before rolling my eyes and scrambling through the crowd, until I finally reach my History class.

Snatching a seat in the back of the class, I plop down and pray to Zeus that Marcus isn't in this class too. Unfortunately Zeus doesn't seem like he's in a very generous mood, though he never really is, as Marcus meanders into the classroom. Out of the corner of my eye, I check and am relieved to see two other kids have occupied the seats on either side of me. Apparently Marcus doesn't really care. He saunters up towards the poor little kid sitting next to me, a freshman if I had to guess. He mutters something to the kid, that I don't catch and the poor twerp leaps to his feet and dashes to a seat in the middle of the classroom. Marcus takes his seat without hesitation.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." He murmurs under his breath. I don't even acknowledge his existence and stare unwaveringly at the blank white board at the front of the class. Our teacher, Mr. Madison id my schedule's not lying, calls the class to attention. Returning to my mental checklist, I conclude he's not a monster, or a god, so I'm back to square one; just peachy.

**_Marcus_**

My muscles protest as the number fifty is called; I drop to my toes before transitioning into a plank position and giving one push up. I force myself back to my feet and watch my instructor carefully. She's a small woman, 5'2, of an athletic build, but no one messes with her, not ever. Personally, she's put me in multiple joint locks over the many years I've been doing martial arts. She goes by Miss. Miranda, and I still don't know her last name, after eight years of being in her class. She studies the group, checking for left over energy. Somehow, even when you're sure you're about to break and you just can't take it anymore, she always manages to push us just enough, without ever pushing us too far.

"Do your best to do another ten; do some on your knees if you have to."She tells us, and you can't hear the disappointed sigh from the class, but you can most definitely sense it. I take a breath before she calls out one again. I drop into a squat before moving into a plank and giving another push up. My arms ache and I feel the muscles shaking as I come within inches of the ground before pushing back up. I'm back on my feet and I glance over my shoulder to the poor kid who can barely get to his feet. I'm not quite sure if they're a boy or a girl, and they've only been here for a few weeks so they're not used to the intensity. I glance at Miss. Miranda who's discretely watching him as he scrambles to his feet. She pauses for a minute as we catch our breath.

"3" rings out across the room as the sound of dropping teenager's echoes in the small space. The main reason I can survive stuff like this is my ability to zone out. My mind wanders to Jane and Zach, neither of whom has spoken to me since the awkward lunch catastrophe. I still don't have a clue what the story behind that is, but I'm definitely curious.

I would say that there might be something else going on there before Zach moved here, but Zach isn't the type to get attached to a girl, or to be in any real relationships at all. Jane seems damaged though, so you never really know. There's no way that Jane will be opening up to _me _anytime soon, though.

"Four" bounces on the walls and I take a deep breath before repeating the process, with an exhausted sigh. I can't help but wonder what Jane is doing now, what her life is like outside of school, since she's been so cryptic.

….

**_Jane_**

Walking towards the park where Artemis was going to meet me, a hand lands on my shoulder. I immediately grab their wrist and twist around, forcing the perpetrator to his knees. Finally glancing at his face, I recognize him with a snarl.

"Tell me why I shouldn't flick my wrist and snap your wrist, arm." I order, applying just a bit more pressure, he squirms, I'm not applying enough pressure to hurt him, just enough to reconsider messing with me.

"Because you'll get arrested?" He suggest, weakly. I laugh bitterly before letting him go and spinning on my heel, stalking off, away from him. He's back on my tail in moments, expectedly, Zach is like a bulldog, once he grabs onto something, he never let's go. He's been like that for as long as I've known him, even when we were little in the sandbox. I've known him for so long; I'd be surprised if there was anything I didn't know about out Zach. Except for the fact, that I loved him much more than he loved me. Those damn tears prick at my eyes again and I blink to try to chase them away. "Wait! Jane, can't we just talk?" He begs, and I hesitate, knowing I can't lead him to my meeting place with Artemis. I spin back and answer honestly.

"No. I never wanted to 'talk about it', hell, I never wanted to see you ever again. I'm only here because I have to be, so there are no unresolved issues we have to deal with, and you can just leave!" I explode, narrowing my eyes at him and praying to Zeus that he'll get the hades away from me.

"I just, I just don't want you to hate me anymore," He explains his eyes softening. "How's your Mom doing?" He wonders, stepping closer to me. Zach doesn't know; Zach doesn't have a clue about my real parentage, or everything that happened after he left.

"Adoptive mother," I correct, watching his face blanch at my tone, "and she died." I hiss, the familiar ache in my heart pulling at my tear ducts. Zach gapes at me, and I feel the steel walls around my heart waver, the pain shaking them to their core. I shake my head and storm away, not able to deal with him any longer.

…

I curl my knees up to my chest, trying to ignore the tears running down my face. Images flashing in front of my eyes, I relived the birth certificate she finally showed me on her death-bed; the day when she told me that the man who raised me wasn't coming home after a car accident, how I wasn't her baby, her explaining that my real mom died in a plane crash, and my real dad was never in the picture. As I wrap my arms around my middle, a sob rips through my chest. The emotional roller coaster of today has been too much for me to take. I'm not the type of girl to sob uncontrollably on a daily basis, but I just can't handle this. Before long, Thalia marches into my tent and crouches down beside me. Her eyes exude that she's strong and powerful, the exact opposite of how I feel right now.

"We all have scars, Jane, some more than others" Watching a lone ant scamper over the tarp, I nod but keep my eyes on the ground. "And the only way to heal is to move on; your one of the strongest people I've ever met: and you will heal." She reminds me, and even though I'm almost positive that she's lying, I nod, sloppily brushing the streams running down my face away. "Get up, we have archery practice, and you need it." She teases, eliciting a tiny laugh from me, as I gracelessly get up, stringing my bow over my shoulder. Closing my eyes, I focus on how the mind numbing sensation of hundreds of archery drills is a painkiller like nothing else.

…

There's the snap of the wire, the whoosh of the arrow and the thud as it hits the target. Where I'm aiming, the bull's eye is about the same diameter of a quarter, microscopic from over fifty feet away. My arrow embeds itself, just centimeters from the tiny dot, anywhere else in the world that would be a remarkable shot. Unfortunately, I'm not a normal girl staying at a summer camp, and as a huntress of Artemis I should make that shot effortlessly. Girls, who have just joined a few days ago, make that shot perfectly.

"Jane, I'd like to discuss developments in the project, with you!" Artemis calls across the empty field and I swallow loudly, hoping I won't have too much trouble explaining that I'm having issues with my ex boyfriend, who still manages to get an emotional rise out of me. Hopeful thinking always prevails, right?


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter Six**_

**_Jane_**

I eye the kid studying across the classroom from me, black hair, dark eyes and a broken expression on his face. Yup, he definitely fits the criteria for a troubled, yet very powerful demigod. Let's see if my instincts are right.

…

"But since they're not a god or monster, our job is done right?" I asked Artemis, yesterday. I couldn't prevent the pleading note in my voice, and luckily, she missed it. She smiled pitifully at me, and I hated her for it in that moment.

"No, if they're this powerful, and I've noticed, monsters have too. They're in danger and they might not even know that they're demigods yet. It's our responsibility to help them, especially if they're a maiden." She reminds me, her soft expression quickly morphing into the strong determined Artemis we all know and love. I bit my lip, knowing I was showing every single sign of really not wanting to do something. Artemis smiled a little. "I'm so glad you accepted this honor Jane." I know for a fact that she just threw in the word honor to guilt me into it, but I couldn't help but nod and agree with her.

…

**_Marcus_**

In Study Hall, Jane suddenly stands up and joins Andrew at his table. Andrew's a bit of an odd duck. No one really knows anything about him, except for the fact that his parents are ridiculously rich. Still, the kid dresses like a slob and is constantly hiding. I tried to talk to him once, but he just kept doodling skulls on his Trig text-book. I never really understood kids like that, the kind who've had everything handed to them and still choose to slum it and whine about life. Though, he seems exactly like the kind of kid Jane gravitates towards. I get the distinct feeling that she'd prefer to not be seen, as if I could stop looking at her. I watch as Andrew mutters something to her, and she just nods before returning to her work. I watch as she squints down at her Math homework and tilts her head. Her chocolate-brown hair sways around her face, flowing over her shoulders. She's wearing jeans again, comfy looking jeans, not the tight kind, and a purple sweater that wouldn't surprise me if it were eight sizes too big. I can't imagine Jane has anything she'd need to hide, but she's hiding it anyways, and I doubt she'd want my advice.

….

**_Zach_**

Jane's laugh rings out, and it's always amazed me how light-hearted and happy she is. I don't think I've ever seen her truly down, even though she's been my support system for as long as I've known her, way before we were dating. I watch as she stretches out on the pool chair beside me. Water drips off her long brown hair and the moisture hides the sun caused highlights that I love to death. She glares up at me, green eyes flashing dangerously. I've learned to both fear and respect that look simultaneously.

"I can't believe you just did that." She huffs, and crosses her arms over her bikini covered chest. Jane is modest to a fault, and I almost had a heart attack when she strutted out earlier. Her only response to my shocked stupor was that she wanted to work on her tan. I enjoyed the view very much. The freedom of summer is a drug, completely addictive and as it winds down, I've been clinging to every single moment, trying to cram a billion things into these last few weeks. Jane thinks I'm going overboard and need to learn how to relax, so our compromise was this, a day dedicated to just hanging out at my house, enjoying the warm weather and the pool.

Currently, Jane's complaining because I flung her into the water, despite her protests about not wanting to get wet. Now she's soaked, and boiling mad, but I just grin down at her, knowing my girlfriend wouldn't hurt a fly. I hand her a towel good-naturedly, and she wraps it around herself. Her glare doesn't falter for a moment and neither does my grin.

"Zachary, I'm going to book club, but your father's home." My mother announces, sticking her head out for just long enough to look scathingly at Jane. Something flashes in Jane's eyes but she just smiles at my mother's retreating form. I should probably correct that statement, my adoptive mother. My real mom disappeared long before I could remember her; both of my parents are adoptive, they raised me, but they're not my blood, they don't get me. As soon as the sound of the heavy oak door closing reaches us, Jane gets up and joins me on my chair. She slides close to my and doesn't say a word, she doesn't have to. I hold her tight, never wanting to let her go. She knows I hate it when my mother acts like that, treating her like scum, but she never seems hurt by it: even though it's a constant thorn in my side. Jane hates confrontation, even other people's and she doesn't want me fighting with my mother over her. I gently stroke her hair as she closes her eyes. After a moment, she shakes her hair a little, showering me with droplets of water before grinning, without ever opening her eyes. I laugh and relax back on the chair, content to just hold her for a little while. She looks up at me with those big innocent eyes and I lean in closer to her...

"While sleep is important to the human body, I'd rather you not catch up during my class." My bio teacher chides, bringing me out of my dream. I scramble upwards and rub my eyes. I hadn't gotten any sleep last night, there were too many thoughts fighting for attention in my brain. I hadn't been able to stop thinking of Jane and how much she's changed. I forgave myself for the mistake I made a long time ago. I was in love with Jane, but I was angry she couldn't even find time to come to my going away party, so I got drunk, and I got stupid. Still, seeing the anger radiating from her, put me right back where I started. I thought we'd never see each other again, I mean what were the chances of her showing up here? Apparently, not as small as I thought they were.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

**_Jane_**

I crouch low, starring the chimera in the eyes. The lion's eyes that is. It would've been much too complicated to stare into the eyes of the goat and the snake at the same time. Michaela told me I was nuts, trying to find a monster, especially at five in the morning; I told her it was anger management. She didn't get it; of course, no one gave her instructions, to blend in, and integrate into high school society again. I wasn't a fan of high school the first time I was trapped there, and I'm not too eager to repeat the experience. If Artemis is going to expect me act like a normal high schooler, I'm going to kill a few monsters beforehand.

Not to mention the nightmares, if I'm going to stay sane, I can't be lying in a sleeping bag, trying to get to sleep again. I'd rather lose the pitiful sleep I'd have gotten, and be able to keep my head in the game. I can't be thinking about my mother or my stepfather when I'm in the field. Distractions and worries are not in my budget, now or ever.

I notch my arrow, aiming for the unflinching chimera, as we circle around each other, in a deadly dance. Finally, it lunges, its serpent's head moving around to strike. I let my arrow fly, watching as it lodges in its center, breaking straight through the body. The chimera falls to its side, before dissolving into ashes, bringing a whole new meaning to "ashes to ashes, dust to dust". Still not completely stable, I rise from my crouch, dusting off my jeans and retrieving my arrow. I'm not normally an adrenaline junky, but there's something about knowing that no matter what goes bump in the night, I will be fine. If I can handle a chimera, I can handle a couple of teenagers: even teenage boys. At least, I should be able to handle anything. I murmur a short prayer to Artemis and Athena, hoping to keep my wits about me today. Then again, I am dealing with Marcus and Zach, so maybe it's a lost cause.

…

Michaela insisted I change into skinny jeans, so here I am in way too tight pants, that don't leave anything to the imagination, and a camisole that shows far too much skin and is way too lacy for my taste. She insisted that if I was going to go about making myself seem normal, I might as well do it right. In her mind, normal includes lip-gloss and heels as well. Thankfully, I put my foot down when she brought up eyeliner. I tried with the heels, mainly because I can't run in them, and I'm screwed if I'm in danger. She doesn't see it that way, since she kept insisting that the heels were tiny. Tiny my….

They click ridiculously loudly as I slowly ascend the stairs, leading up to the front doors. A bit like Cinderella, except I am not a princess; and I am not looking for my prince charming. I hate that my entrances are now broadcasted; I like being a wallflower, thank you very much. Unfortunately, in such a small town, it's easier to blend in as ditz than as a slob: not that I'm a slob, I'm just not fashion forward.

I'm not used to this, being the notorious new girl. Before, I had lived in the same town for as long as I can remember and everybody. There was never anything to gossip about. I was just Jane, plain Jane, as cliché as it is. Not that I was invisible: I was just average. If I any one really noticed or stared at me, it was because I was Zach's girlfriend. Now I'm an animal on exhibit at the zoo.

I make my way to my locker, glad I was able to get rid of the labradoodle yesterday. A cold shoulder usually gets rid f the welcome wagon types quickly. Taking a deep breath, I try to recall the calm from after I killed the chimera. Nope, it's not working: there's too much testosterone around to even think about banishing my annoyance. Here's to another fun, easy day. (A girl can hope, right?)

**_Marcus_**

Kristen saunters across the lab in my first period class, swaying her hips in what I'm sure she thinks is a seductive manner. Personally, I think the movements are honestly quite bizarre. She perches herself on the window counter beside me, and leans forward while twirling her hair around her finger. I honestly thought that only idiots in movies did that.

"Know what I think?" She asks, and I'm _this close_ to answering her honestly, before she continues. "We should go to that party this weekend." I nod and smile, like I'm listening to her. She makes everything sound like it's this huge revelation, when I was already planning on going, I don't know anyone who wasn't planning on going. Without even an eye roll, I pretend to listen to what she's saying. Kristen and I have an understanding, sort of. Whatever it is, it works and that's all I care about.

Instead of focusing on what she's saying, my mind wanders to Jane. I don't understand her in the slightest, not even a bit. I can't stop thinking about her. I don't what it is. It's not like she's gorgeous, not that she's ugly, it's just she's average. I should be bored with her, not so enamored. I don't get it. While I'm in la-la-land, Kristen parks her hand on my upper thigh.

"Right?" She confirms, biting her glossy lip. Her mascara coated eyelashes flutter, and her there's all this gold crap on her eyelids. Not like Jane, if my memory proves correct, she doesn't wear any make up what so ever. It's one of the many things that intrigue me about her: she's got the guts to be real.

"Yeah, definitely" I assure her, faking a grin, and she smiles and continues gabbing, giving me even more time to zone out. The most dangerous thing she could possible do would be to bore me, I have way too good of an imagination. Before long, the bell rings and we're dismissed.

A/N: Honestly, I hate the fact that I'm posting this author's note, but I'm really struggling with the story. I'm considering deleting it, though I'm not sure. I don't want to disappoint anyone, so if you want me to continue, please let me know.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

A/N: Just as a side note, I was thinking about it, and I got a review suggesting I put up my story for "Adoption". I had a minor epiphany at that moment, I care about this story enough to want to hold on to it, and I'm going try to finish it myself. Just thought you should know, to ease any worries.

_**Jane**_

Smacking face first into a brick wall would be an understatement. Do brick walls normally meet you head on? The kid is broad-shouldered and his massive muscles have me stumbling backwards. He grunts and keeps plowing through kids without a word, most people have learned to get out of his way by now, but it wasn't in the welcome packet the stuffy vice principal gave me. I shoot a scathing glare at his back and clumsily gather the books he smashed out of my hands, hoping I can grab them before they get even more dispersed across the hallway. Long silver nails dart out and hand me my Physics textbook.

"You okay?" She asks, and I finally look up and take in the girl crouched beside me. Perfect golden brown curls land a few inches past her shoulders. Her face is bare of makeup, and she's dressed in a simple cream-colored sweater. I blink once or twice, before scrambling to pick up my books. SH hands me the last obscenely large textbook with a smile. "Ignore Bart; he's one step behind the rest of us in the evolutionary track." She assures me, rolling her eyes at the Neanderthal who has stopped to talk to some other moron. I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear and smile uncertainly.

"I wasn't planning on it." I assure her, as we both stand up. I glance down at her shoes, and notice she's not in sandals, or heels, like the ones I'm stuck in. Instead, she's rocking Nike's and I almost want to shout with joy, finally someone normal(ish)!

"You're the new girl, right?" She asks, and unlike some of the other people who have referred to me as that, the inflection made it clear she didn't mean it as a derogatory term, like I'm an alien or something. Seriously, I'm from Arizona, people: no need to act like I have eight heads.

I've never lived in a small town, and the charming side everyone tells you about hasn't really made its appearance just yet. At the moment, it's a little like living in a fishbowl, and everyone flips out when some new fish is dropped into the bowl. How the hell does anyone deal with this?

It doesn't make any sense, typically, demigods, especially powerful ones, have to move around a lot to avoid monster attacks; which is definitely a consideration when monsters get you expelled when stupid fire-breathing lizards melt the girls' locker room and get you expelled, and everyone thinks you're nuts, when you try to explain to your kindergarten teacher that it wasn't your fault and a mean snake did it and then he ran away. If I had to go through that crap growing up then, there is no way some ridiculously powerful demigod can just swim around the fish bowl entirely unnoticed.

"I'm sorry, I'm totally spacing on your name, Jasmine?" She guesses, as we walk, grimacing a bit when I shake my head. I smile forgivingly; I'm just as retched with names as she is. Most of them just go in one ear and out the other. Zach always used to tease me about it when I butchered a teacher's name a month into school. Biting my lip, I force myself to focus on the girl speaking to me, instead of letting it wander to that moron.

"Jane." I correct her, and she sighs with disappointment.

"I'll never get it; I'm Anna, by the way." She tells me, before slipping into an art class. Unless I'm nuts, and make no mistake, I'm not discarding the possibly that I'm a wing nut, I think I may have just made a new friend.

_**Marcus**_

Anna Hayward may be certifiably crazy. Not Jane crazy: or even Kristen crazy. Anna is her own brand of nuts. We've known each other since we were six years old, and her family is about as rich as god. Yet, I have yet to see her in anything that's considered rich or posh. Her jeans are practical and without holes. Her brown, untouched hair is kept either naturally down or in a pony-tail, and her shirts are sans brand logos and sequins. Not that she's a slob or, doesn't care about her appearances he's just not obsessed with it, like most of the girls I know.

That's not the only reason, either, in ten years of knowing her; I have yet to see her be even the slightest bit judgmental or mean. I don't get it. Is it even possible that she could like and respect everyone? I just can't see it; everyone has a dark side, except for Anna. I saw something once that serial killer sometimes are mistaken for entirely normally, perpetually happy people. I shook my head at the thought, I've known her forever, and there is no way she's a serially killer, hopefully.

She perches on the stool next to me, attracting some odd glances from people who don't know either of us very well. It's easy to see that our reputations clash a bit. She drums her pencil on the edge of the art table and I can hear her foot tapping on her stool. I roll my eyes at her, but smile anyways.

"Could you be any more fidgety?" I tease her and she just sticks her tongue out at me. The teacher wanders in and starts rambling about self-expression and all that crap art teachers throw at us. After a couple of minutes, she leaves again and tells us "to let the color pencil do what it needs to do".

Anna who actually takes this stuff seriously, purses her lips before beginning her drawing. I roll my eyes again, the rest of the room is slacking off, like normal people, but Anna is seriously studying the paper, like her life depends on it.

"You do realize this is art, not something that actually is going to matter in two years, right?" I remind her, it's not even as if she wants to be an artist, she's pitiful at it, seriously I can never figure out what her drawing was supposed to be. Sometimes I'll compliment her on her drawing of a dolphin and she'll tell me it's a horse.

"Everything counts in the long run." I raise an eyebrow at her philosophic answer. Just another reason she'll surprise me on a daily basis, the girl comes u with conundrums all the time. "Anyways, have you met the new girl yet?"She asks, leaving me speechless.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

_**Jane**_

I feel sick to my stomach with trepidation as I stand in front of the double doors leading to the cafeteria. My feet are aching from walking in heels, and I feel unceremoniously revealed in these-way too-skinny jeans. My nook and crannies are my business, not everybody else's. Anxiously, I rub my bare arms; I wish I had a jacket, or preferably a large baggy sweatshirt and old jeans. Why, oh why, did it have to be me?

I wish I could back out and run away, without ever having to face Zach ever again. I meant to tell Artemis yesterday that I couldn't; I just couldn't make myself continue the pain. Unfortunately, I can't face her and admit that I've let a stupid boy, an ex-boyfriend no less, disrupt my loyalty to her, and my duty to my fellow demigod. My nausea increases ten-fold thinking about it, the look of disgust on her face is enough to make me want to curl up into a ball and hide in a nice dark corner. As I stare, preoccupied, at the doors; I miss Anna approaching until she's slipping past me.

"I really can't believe I missed you yesterday." She shakes her head in disbelief before pushing open the cafeteria doors, either not noticing or just ignoring my hesitation. After a second of uncertainty, I follow her. "Where did sit?" She wonders, strolling into line. I notice something in the way she carries herself that makes everything she does light and musical. I slide in behind her, turning my face so it's hidden in my hair. I hook my thumbs into the belt loops on my jeans, and stare at the ground, trying to pretend I'm normal. Hopeless, I know.

Anna shoots me a pointed look and I remember she asked me a question. I swallow and resist the urge to glance over at Za- Marcus's table. Gesturing idly over my shoulder, I shrug.

"Over there." I'm expecting a scoff, or an obnoxious comment, but Anna just glances over curiously, and when she spots the table I'm referring to her expression only changes slightly to realization, not the disdain I was expecting. I follow her gaze, taking in the Mohawks and flashing lights of handheld video games. The heavy makeup reminds me distinctly of those posters at the mall, with the rainbows on the girls' eyelids and ridiculous eyelashes. I always used to laugh and wonder who actually put the effort into piling on all that makeup.

"Huh, I wouldn't really picture flowers and lace mixing with leather and body piercings but, I guess if that's where you're comfortable…" She trails off shrugging, without trying to talk me out of sitting with the "charity cases"; I wanted to hit Zach so hard when he said that. He never used to be such a brat; he's always been a bit entitled but he's never been this bad before. I don't understand what changed.

I don't tell Anna that I'm not exactly lace and flowers myself, despite my current attire. Pausing for a moment, I remember that Anna isn't exactly dressed in a Prada pumps. As she strolls to the front of the line, and hands the cashier a few dollars, I start wondering if she'd ever consider being a hunter. I've talked to her for a while now and boys haven't come up yet, which is always a fantastic sign. not to mention, there's a quiet confidence that surrounds her, and I'm ridiculously envious. Why couldn't I have been born with a spine?

Shoving a couple of crumpled ones at the poor women staffing the cash register, I grab a tray of what I'm sure should resemble food, and follow Anna down the line. She grabs a carton of strawberry milk off the shelf, and twirls out into the cafeteria. I follow her a little nervously, knowing I'll have to walk to my seat alone and unfortunately prominent. Suddenly, Anna pauses in the aisle and starts to head to the table in the back corner of the room. I lengthen my stride and catch up to her quickly.

"What are you doing?" I shake my head in wonder when Anna just shrugs. I thought I was going to have to spend my lunch in awkward silence all alone, and I'm not about to get my hopes up until I'm entirely sure...

"I thought I'd sit with you, if that's okay." She continues walking without pausing. My eyes widen and I hesitate, not quite sure how to deal with this. I don't know why I'm so surprised, because now that I think about it, this falls perfectly into her personality. I start following Anna, and it takes me a moment to realize that her roundabout route is going to lead us right by …. Marcus's table. I stare at the back of her heels, keeping my head down and my hair over my face, determined not to look up. Heat floods my cheeks and I bite my lip trying to be as inconspicuous as physically possible.

In my haste to go unnoticed, I miss an extremely important detail, involving a bowl of soup, and a clumsy teenage boy.

_**Marcus**_

It's almost beautiful how horribly perfect the moment is; I stand up, still talking to Keiralee from across the table, and totally miss the girl following behind Anna. The bowl of "wanton" (is it supposed to look like meat in those dumpling thingys) soup, I got from the school counter, flips over and manages to spill on the both of us, soaking through her shirt and dripping onto her shoes almost instantly. She groans in frustration before picking up her tray which I managed to knock out of her hands. I kneel in front of her to try to help, feeling insanely embarrassed.

"God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to…" I stutter, not sure what to say, until she glares up at me and I realize something. I've seen that face before, even if the framing make no sense.

_**Zach**_

The girl Marcus oh so gracefully slammed into stands up and I turn around on the bench to face her. She's decently attractive with short brown hair and jeans hugging a delicious figure. Even with her blouse-sopping wet, she still looks great.

"Are you okay?" I ask her, as Marcus just stands there gaping at the poor girl like a fish. She looks up at me, piercing eyes cutting through me like a piece of paper. I know those eyes all too well. "Jane?" I can't believe it, even in the old days, I've never seen her in anything even remotely resembling this. She's even wearing make up for god's sakes! I want to check for alien probes. Her eyes widen as she recognizes me and she storms off, heading to the opposite side of the café with Anna Hayward trailing after her. I turn to Marcus, who sits down next to me, just as dazed as I am, even though that makes absolutely no sense.

"Now would be a great time to explain how you know her." Marcus insists, his expression still stunned, but clearly determined to not let me avoid the story any longer.

A/N: So, in my defense I had this chapter ready to go a week ago, but then my flash drive decided it didn't like me and deleted **everything. **


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter 10** _

_**Marcus**_

I don't quite know how to handle this information. I can't merge the girl who Zach described with everything I know about Jane. According to Zach, after he told her about the cheating, she left, just disappeared, no trace of her anywhere. I asked about her family, but he just shook his head, without a word. I've always been curious; I was the little kid who tried to stick his tongue in an electric pencil sharpener just to see what would happen. I have the feeling that the outcome of finding out more about Jane would be extremely similar to that of the pencil sharpener experiment. Standing by my locker, I catch sight of her slipping into a Physics class.

I still can't get over how she's dressed, normally I don't really notice what a girls wearing, I certainly never pay attention to what Kristen's wearing. That's all the same anyways, I'm sure the name of the brand is "A Thousands Ways to Give Your Father a Heart Attack." Jane, I don't get Jane, the transition from baggy t-shirts and mom jeans to lace tank tops and skin-tight pants doesn't make much sense. I really have to talk to Anna, really, really soon.

_**Anna**_

Marcus finds me with a thoroughly baffled expression on his face. So much for, you know, studying, in study hall today. One of these days, I'm going to forget to study for a test, rely on study hall to get it done, and then fail because I was too busy explaining people to Marcus. With a sigh, I place my books on the table.

"Some days…." I trail off, because Marcus isn't listening.

"I just don't get it, one day you're one thing, the next you're the complete opposite. It's like a different species, you guys make no sense." Marcus rambles, and I roll my eyes.

"Who exactly are you talking about, I got the girl bit, but is there someone specific you had in mind?" Marcus doesn't usually bring up his love life, he knows I don't approve of his girlfriend...type person. He's adamant that it's not a relationship, he keeps calling it an agreement. I don't even want to consider the terms of that agreement. If he's about to ask me what color he needs to find in Victoria's Secret for her Prom Night...

"The new girl, Jane, I just don't get it." He shakes his head, like he's trying to follow complicated Trig equations.

"What's not to get, she seems nice to me; she didn't even kill you after you dumped your lunch on her." He grimaces at the reminder, but shakes his head again. Personally, I'd be grateful, I flipped on him, and it wasn't even me wearing his lunch.

"By the way, is she okay?" He asks, running his fingers through is hair with a guilty expression on her face.

"She's fine, I lent her a new shirt, s she didn't have to walk around smelling like tomatoes." I tell him, rolling my eyes with a little muttered "only you Marcus, only you." Marcus pretends not to hear me and continues on with his interrogation.

"Is it normal for girls to just switch personalities day by day?" He demands, and I hear the frustration in his voice. I've never seen him this unraveled before. No girl has ever had this kind of effect on him.

"What do you mean?" I ask, ignoring the glare from the freshman across the table.

"Yesterday, she's a complete and stereotypical, "Plain Jane" and today…." He trails off when I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Are you talking about fashion wise, Marcus?" I ask, trying to contain my amusement as he blushes and stares down at his thoroughly scuffed sneakers.

"Yeah, but it's not just that either" He insists, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. "She has all this awkward history with Zach, and she just has this look in her eyes that reminds me of…"

"Marcus!" I cut him off and he turns a brighter shade of pink. "You really like her, don't you?" I smile a little, wee little Marcus finally found a girl. He shrugs, without meeting my eyes.

"I don't know, she doesn't make any sense." He mutters. I grin, to Marcus, girls, excluding me off course, are just passing entertainment. Very few have actually caught and kept his attention. I'm talking, three, Ashley Holt in Preschool, Izzy Quan in second grade, and Olivia Peter in Eight grade. Since then, Marcus hasn't been seriously interested in a girl, not even a little. A puzzle might be a very good thing for him.

"Have you talked to her?" I ask, and Marcus stops for a second, considering it.

"Sort of, she doesn't talk much, does she?" He points out, and I nod, I'm not the biggest talker in my grade, but even compared to me, Jane is really, really, quiet. I can't tell if she's just introverted, or really doesn't like us: could be a bit of both when it comes right down to it. At the very least, Jane is one of a kind.

_**Jane**_

Quickly taking my seat in Math, I keep my head down. The last thing I want to do is face Marcus now. Of all the things that could happen on my first day actually trying to assimilate into this nuts school, why must I have soup dumped on me? He tries to catch my attention as I walk to my seat in the back of the class, but I keep my eyes firmly locked on these stupid heels. Luckily I timed my entrance right, as Mrs. Trevens starts lecturing as soon as I arrive. I murmur a quick thank you to whatever god math teachers fall under, and yank my notebook out of my bag and start scribbling notes.

The transcript Artemis conjured up for me made me seem like a star student. Unfortunately, Zach got solid B's for the majority of his life and still tutored me in all subjects, and when I say all, I mean all, he helped me study for health. That was a very awkward set of flash cards. I don't even want to remember that, and not just because of the antics that ensued after we finished strictly studying either. Though that is a contributing factor to my wish for memory lost. Amnesia sounds like a fabulous idea to me, why does everybody complain about getting it? At this point I'd welcome it with a smile on my face.

Copying down the notes, I'm not sure if the teacher's still speaking English. They don't teach math classes in French, do they? When she asks the class if they understand the information so far, there's a general chorus that the process is wicked easy. I feel my cheeks burning and glance back down at my notes, as if they'll make more sense this time around. No such luck, I bite my lip and try to remember which god is supposed to make math make sense. What the Hades, it can't hurt to pray to a random deity that I'm not sure if exists.

I was very, very wrong, apparently praying to diety who may or may not be real, can hurt, a lot.

"You should all be done by now." Mrs. Trevens informs us, and the majority of the kids nod. I just gape at them, and finally notice the practice problem on the board. Frantically, I scribble it down and start attempting to follow the process she just outlined. "Jane, could you tell us what you got?" Mrs. Trevens shoots me a motherly smile, as if to make up for the fact that she just through me to the wolves, drenched in barbeque sauce. I glance down at my paper and just see scribbles as the letters start to float around the page.

"Uh…." I don't feel like a deer in the headlights, I feel like a deer lying on the road, half-dead and waiting for the guy with the huge truck who likes venison to show up. Mrs. Trevens simply shakes her head, and moves behind her desk, shuffling through papers.

"Marcus, go sit next to her and help her keep up." She orders, and I feel my eyes widen. An uproar of "oooo's" and whistle rush through the class as Marcus picks up his books and sits beside me. A faint splattering of red appears on his cheeks. I can't imagine that I look any better. I pull my hair off to the side, hoping it covers my face enough to hide my blush.

"Anthony, what answer did you get?" She calls, a slim boy with glasses rattles off his answer. She nods and starts putting another problem on the board. I glance at Marcus, whose eyes go wide, and then squint.

"Jane," He whispers and I can hear the desperation in his voice. I lift my head and look at him, surprised by his sincerity. "Can you tell me what the problem says; I can't read it." He must see the look of confusion that crosses my face. "Dyslexia" He admits, as further explanation. As my eyes go wide, he nervously runs a hand through his long black hair. _Dyslexia, dyslexia? _I swallow a little, before reading off the problem. Luckily, the characters are staying in place this time around. My dyslexia isn't serious, and usually only acts up when I'm stressed, or rushing. It doesn't help that I'm out of practice trying to decipher textbooks. It's funny how some things just seem really unimportant when I'm with the hunters.

"Me too," I murmur, as he starts working on the problem, he looks up, confusion on his features. "I have dyslexia." I confess. He blinks before nodding and going back to his work. Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I see his leg shaking, another tell-tale sign of a demigod. ADD or ADHD, oh lord, I mean what are the chances. "I never thought it was that common, I've only met a few people with it before." I prod, trying to see if I can work this to my advantage. I bite my lip, hoping he can give me some insight. If I'm going to find the demigod, crazy battle awareness and the subconscious preference to read ancient Greek instead of English are red flags I need to be looking for.

"Yeah, same, Zach's the only other person I know." He admits, and I can see how that he's waiting for my reaction at him mentioning Zach. He watches me carefully, trying to be discrete and I just stare at him, the gears shifting in my mind as everything clicks into place. I might have to tell Artemis about Marcus, or gods forbid Zach. Oh god, I can't, I just can't. I'm moving too fast either way, I still don't know that either of them are the demigod I'm looking for just yet, there are other things I need to consider first. "You okay?" He asks, and I nod, trying to tap down the nausea. "Just relax and solve the problem." He recommends and it takes me a second to realize that he's talking about math, of all things. I take a deep breath and tell myself to just relax and solve the problem. If only it were that simple.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Marcus

Jane turns pale white and then a sickening shade of green. As I watch, she swallows and stares down at the equation, as if it's in Chinese or something. Tyrant Trevens clears her throat and demands the answer from some other poor kid, who doesn't want to be here anymore than I do. Trevens and I don't have a good history. Last year, Zach and I were in the same Algebra 2 class with her, which didn't end well as you can probably guess. The class was the most fun in my schedule, that's for sure. Since then, she's been determined to make me miserable, the only reason I'm not failing is because I'm good at math. She can't fail me, even though she's certainly tried. Seeing the panicked expression on Jane's face, I don't think she shares my strength in numbers. Leaning closer, I whisper softly to her.

"Are you okay? You don't look so good." When I finish, she looks up at me and rolls her eyes pointedly. I feel my eyes widen as I realize what I just said. Oops, that came out a bit wrong. "I didn't mean it like that." I blurt frantically.

"I'm fine," she hisses and returns to the problems: the door slamming between us, keeping me firmly on the outside. I've never wanted to open a door more in my life. Regrettably, I don't think Jane will be letting me in anytime soon. Running my hand through my hair anxiously, before swallowing my pride and just blurting it out.

"I'm sorry about the soup thing in the cafeteria, it really was an accident."

"I'd hope you don't slam into people and spills lunches on them on purpose." She sneers, without even looking up. Does that count as her accepting my apology?

Why do I always manage to come out sounding like an idiot around her? I'm usually good at talking to girls, saying just the right things, and flattering them just enough. Charming a new girl should be even easier, since she should be looking for friends, lonely, and at least a little nervous. Unfortunately, Jane isn't anything she's supposed to be.

…

Zach

Some days, being adopted sucks. Most days are fine; I don't really think of myself as an orphan or throw myself pity parties on a daily basis. In the big scheme of things, I got lucky with the parents I was dumped with. Those are the good days; the bad days are a bit different.

Like right now, I'm drumming my fingers on the lab bench, staring down at the stupid worksheet sitting in front of me. We had homework last night, to find out the blood types of our parents. Naturally, I didn't blurt anything out in front of everyone in the class, but I figured the teacher would be sympathetic if I told her. Yeah, fat luck with that. Want to know what she did? She laughed. When I told her I was serious, she just rolled her eyes.

"I wasn't born yesterday, you know, but I will give you it to you, that is the most creative excuse for not doing your homework that I've ever heard." She chuckled, before putting a large zero into her grade book. My eyes widen and my jaw goes slack as she moves onto the next desk. I'm so glad that the teachers in my school are so understanding and welcoming to people from all sorts of backgrounds.

It's not like I made absolutely no effort to complete the assignment. I figured that blood types had to be in the adoption papers. The unfortunate side to that point is I had no way to get access to the adoption papers. My parents are religious in their belief that I shouldn't have access to my adoption records until I turn eighteen. I'm sixteen now, and I only wanted to look at the blood types, but they were "too busy" with "Important matters", and "sure my teacher would understand". Look how well that turned out.

Now I'm staring at the paper, and it asks all sorts of details, like hair color, eye color, blood type, height, etc. The purpose is to show the effect of DNA, and your genes. Yea, genes are such a fun subject for me. I look at the little finger prick that we're supposed to use, before quickly poking my finger, just hard enough to draw blood, and I wiping the blood on the little swab of cotton. Sealing it in a plastic bag, I try to convince myself that I'm just being paranoid and this should be no big deal. It can't hurt to know a little about my ancestry, right? I mean how bad could it be?

Jane

Walking towards the clearing Artemis has us camped out in, whether she always manages to find natural clearings, in every forest we camp in, or she magically wills them into existence, I don't know, but I'm glad for the seclusion. There's something inexplicably relaxing at exiting a patch of trees to the sound of Michaela and Tanya arguing over the benefit of skinny jeans over yoga paints in a knife fight. Tanya taking the position of skinny jeans, and her example is a time she fought off Empousa, found over a machete along with fangs. Even though Tanya's mortal, she was blest with being able to see all the lovely things our world has to offer, and a dead-beat dad, so long story short, she ended up a hunter.

We may be a little strange, but there's something inexplicably comforting about our crazy group. Michaela spots me out of the corner of her eye and stops mid rant, before turning to me.

"Why aren't you wearing my top?" She demands, hands on her hips. Sighing, I shrug my back off my shoulder, and present her with her stained camisole. Glancing down at my plain black t-shirt, I can't say that it's that much of a loss, as far as I'm concerned. Michaela seems to have a different opinion. "How?" Her tone is dangerously tight, and her hand moves slightly, just itching to draw her bow, and continue interrogating me with an arrow to my throat.

"A guy dumped a bowl of soup on me." I admit, shrugging, it's not that big of a deal, more annoying than anything else. The part that gets me is that Marcus won't leave me alone. Why can't the boy take "stay the hell away" for answer? I thought I was pretty clear, just goes to show you the utter oblivion that is the mind of men, all around the world.

Before Tanya or Michaela can ask, Artemis calls out across the field, her head sticking out through her silver tent. With a swallow, I make my way over, knowing the upcoming conversation is bound to be awkward.

…

"Is there anything you want to tell me, Jane?" She asks, her tone isn't confrontational, and her posture isn't rigid, but something tells me that answering this question wrong could be very, very bad. I take a deep breath and prepare myself for the disappointment I know I'm bound to recieve in a moment.

"I should've told you sooner, but I didn't" I start, lamely if I do say so myself. "Um… my ex, ex-boyfriend that is, goes to the school we're investigating." I swallow, and peek at her expression, seeing that she seems scandalized, I hurry to explain further. "Nothing's happened, of course, it's just, he recognized me, and it's awkward." Artemis clears her throat and raises an eyebrow, clearly indicating I should go on. "And I just made the connection to the fact that he's dyslexic." Artemis purses her lips. "And his best friend is too." I finish a sick twist in my stomach. I swallow and glance down at my favorite little animal, Fabio, who nuzzles my hand and lays his head in my lap comfortingly. As he does, Artemis's curiosity is clearly piqued.

"He doesn't usually do that with anyone but me," She muses and when I don't provide an explanation, she continues. "You need to get close to those two boys, find out more about their past, we need to be certain who the demigod is before we make our move." She instructs, before standing and, waiting for me to stand as well. I stand and bow formally to her, before she slips out of her tent, drawing an arrow from her quiver as she makes her way into the woods.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

**_Jane_**

Contemplating how I'm going to make this work, I adjust the straps on my bag and turn on to the next street. Rainwater pounds the pavement, splattering on the cement, and my hair falls like a wet rag around my face, suddenly I empathize with cats everywhere on the subject of groomers. Glancing at the sun peaking up above the horizon, I resign myself to the fact that I have a long, long walk ahead of me. Glancing down at my rain spotted clothes, I'm glad I opted out of the white blouse Michaela thought I should wear. The black long-sleeved shirt suites me better, even if it has to be paired with the "fashionable scarf" she practically strangled me with. My feet are starting to ache and I'm regretting that I went on that hunt last night.

Artemis told me I could stay behind when she found signs of a Cyclopes, but I couldn't take it. I hated the looks the other girls were given me, as if I had betrayed them by consorting with boys and the jealousy that I, of all people had gotten this assignment from Artemis. I hated the anxiety that attacked every single time I thought of getting closer to Zach. I hated the unease thinking about Marcus, so I went along with the hunt. Tracking through most of the night, until we finally found our target. Unfortunately, the mamma Cyclopes didn't go down easily, even when she took multiple arrows. After awhile a few of us resorted to fighting with hunting knives, until eventually Michaela sliced the creature in half, creating quite a cloud of monster dust, mind you: oh, the joys of being a hunter.

The point being, my eyes practically ache from the effort of keeping them open, and the wicked cut on my leg seems determined to not let me forget about it for even a second. I really don't want to walk the next half mile to get to school today. It's amazing how the most frivolous, insignificant things seem to become so important, even when the world is spiraling around her, a girl will still complain about a broken heel or zit on her nose. In my case, it's a long walk. As I slowly trudge my way down the street, I debate praying to some deity that the walk will seem shorter than it actually is.

Apparently, random deities have a strange sense of humor. Just as the thought crosses my brain, I hear a car pull up behind me. My life style immediately has me spinning around. There was a reason I chose an almost deserted street as my pathway to school, I don't like surprises, and I have a feeling definitely I wouldn't like the surprise that was coming in that car.

_**Marcus**_

It's strange how much a person can notice in the space of a few passing glances and brief encounters. Like how Jane reaches for her right jacket pocket when she's startled, and her eyes widen like a doe for a brief instance before they narrow, all innocence disappearing from her face. One of these days, I'm going to figure her out, Zach or no Zach. Half of me, probably the rational part, wonders if I'm insane when I pull up beside her and roll down my window.

Jane whips around, staring me down with intensity I forgot she had in her. The dangerous green in her eyes always seems to do me in. God, I sound like a bad movie. Never the less, I call out to her, through the pounding rain.

"Hey, do you want a ride?" I ask her, seeing as she's already drenched and miserable, but still full of pride, she'll probably turn me down, like she did when I invited her to sit with us. I will never understand why she seems so determined to be sorted in with the stoners and the rejects. I'm sure if she opened up a little, everyone would accept her. It's what they did for Zach. Then again, the hundreds he carries around in his wallet and the mansion his family has up here might be contributing factors to that easy reception. I wouldn't put it past some of the girls in our school, Kristen included.

Jane eyes me for a moment, apparently considering my offer, before she shakes her head, I sigh, and start to insist when she changes her mind.

"Yeah, sure" She still doesn't seem too thrilled when she shuffles around to the passenger side of the car and slips into the seat beside me. I pretend not to notice when she turns up the heat and places her hands on the vents with a thankful smile. Trying to be nonchalant, I start to pull away from the curb, and suspect I fail miserably. As I make my way through the winding streets, I carefully watch Jane out of the corner of my eye. Her expression is guarded, as it always is, but if I'm not mistaken, she seems almost thoughtful. Releasing a breath I didn't know I was holding and skimming my hands along the edge of the steering wheel, I turn a corner and force myself to at least make an attempt at conversation.

"So I gathered, you've met Anna?" I ask, figuring it's a neutral conversation starter. In the pause before she answers, I notice the low crooning of some songstress, musing over the joys of love. Jane doesn't seem to really hear me as she flinches; staring at the radio with angry eyes, before noticing my startled expression, and then looks apologetic.

"Sorry, just um…." She reaches out and immediately changes the channel on my dingy car radio. While I know I'm insanely lucky to have a car, it's kind of a tattered little thing, built mostly from scrap parts my uncle found around the garage he worked at, and constantly in need of repairs. Despite its minor character flaws, as I like to say to Anna, my car has personality.

It takes a minute for Jane to find a suitable station, flinching again when she hears a mother's day commercial. I study her face some more, surprised when she abruptly turns back to me.

"Sorry just I really hated that song, bad memories… you know?" I nod even though I don't have a clue what she's talking about. "And yeah, Anna seems great." She offers up, in what must be the most relaxed and comfortable tone I've ever heard from her. We pull into the school parking lot right then and I'm dreading leaving the car, because I know back outside our momentary bubble of comfort, Jane's walls are going to come flying up, successfully keeping me locked out. I don't know if I've felt this frustrated before in my life. As Jane opens her door, I make a rash decision.

"Are you coming to Ben's party Saturday?" I ask her, only half sure I should be.

"I don't know, I don't think I'm invited." She mutters, still turned away from me. I almost laugh at her naïvety and work hard to keep the teasing tone out of my voice.

"It's not really something you're invited to, everyone just kind of shows up." I explain, and she shrugs, noncommittally.

"I'll think about it." She finally concedes after one insanely tense silence. She slips out of my car and I follow her, catching up easily. For half a second I consider giving her my jacket to shelter her from the rain, before she darts under the overhang and strolls into the lobby. "Thanks for the ride," She finally mutters, and starts to slip away, I'm assuming towards her home room.

Just as she starts to round the bend, a blur of black leather and sequins darts around the corner, smashing into me. Jane freezes in place, as Kristen wraps her arms around my neck, and traps my mouth under hers. Her hands force themselves into my hair and trace along my jaw line, and when she pulls away, Jane is long gone.

_**Jane**_

My luck really sucks, truly it does, being half drowned walking to school is one thing, getting compelled into getting into a car with a pesky teenage boy is another, having the sickeningly sweet song declared to be "our song" by your ex boyfriend playing on the radio is another, and then when you're starting to finally feel like you're making progress little miss frisky shows. What I wouldn't do to get the hell out of high school.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

**_Marcus_**

Jane hasn't looked at me: she hasn't even spared me a single glance since the day I drove her to school. Nothing directed towards me during our mutual classes, despite the fact that she sits behind me in one and next to me in another. I keep trying to get her attention, just long enough to talk to her, but she always manages to dart right out of sight the moment I think I've finally gotten my chance.

I almost broiled Kristen alive after Jane left. I had to try so hard to get her to relax, and even open up the tiniest bit, and I was finally making headway, when Kristen slammed into me. I'll admit it, kissing Kristen is hot, a superficial feeling, but disorienting no the less, and I got distracted. Unfortunately, by the time I opened my eyes Jane was long gone.

How is it that people keep getting in between us? I genuinely just want to talk to her, and get to know her better. Just to understand that perplexing quality about her. For once, I don't have any ulterior motives with a girl, none at all, and it's biting me in the butt.

Now, standing awkwardly in Ben Palmer's house, I find myself searching for her. I know it's unlikely she'll show up, it doesn't seem like her kind of scene in the least. There's some hard-core celebrating going on, though no one's quite sure what we're celebrating, it doesn't diminish the jubilation in the slightest. It's part of highs school most definitely to go to these kind of things, and even though I'm not entertained, a large number of people seem to be greatly entertained.

The crowds of people mingle and churn among themselves, chatting without any real purpose. Pulsing music, on mixed in with what seems like hundreds of conversations, pounds through the house, and the lights remain dimmed, adding to the fuzzy atmosphere in the room. Somehow, I find myself with a drink in my hand, and wait a moment, before dumping it out the window without a second thought. An angry protest grumbles from down below, and I scramble away from the window, hurriedly dart in the opposite direction.

Weaving my way through the crushing throng of people, I glance around, looking for someone to talk to; at least to momentarily alleviate this obsession with whether Jane is coming or not. With a grin, I spot Anna across the room. Chatting animatedly with one of her friends, she doesn't notice me approaching till I'm only a few paces away. If I had to guess, it's the friend who doesn't approve of me, though they all sort of blend together.

She smiles at me and beckons me over, despite her friend's apprehension. Anna shakes her long hair out of her face, and looks up at me warmly. She always manages to do that, look at someone as if they're all that matters. For a moment I glance at the girl beside her, who rolls her eyes before stalking away with a scoff in my direction.

"She doesn't mean it you know, you shouldn't take it to heart." She tells me, and I sigh, before leaning against the wall beside her. Her gaze drifts across the room, not predatory, just curious.

"Yeah, I know, you've told me before." I remind her, one petty princess holding grudges for something I don't even know about is the least of my problems at the moment. Suddenly, Anna's gaze stills, locking on a lone figure just now entering the room. I follow her eyes and am a little disgusted at what I see.

"I don't like it, Anna, he's dangerous." I warn, trying to discourage her, despite all my earlier warnings on the subject being in vain. A small smile lights up her face, for all the wrong reasons, and I eye the drink in her hand, wondering if the dingy red cup's the problem here. Catching my gaze, she shakes her head.

"It's water." She assures me, before her gaze returns to Jonathan Trenton, whose arrogant smirks are currently directed at the red-head standing beside him. I've seen those smirks directed at Anna too many times to feel comfortable with it. The red-head hangs off his arm, flush against him, but Anna either doesn't notice or doesn't care.

"He's trouble," I remind her, which I shouldn't have to do. His juvie record speaks for itself, and Anna can read just fine. Anna tunes me out once again, and watches him, positively entranced. I know my opinion doesn't matter to her in Trenton's case, but maybe at least some of my warnings will break through the haze. She hands me her cup, not looking in my direction, still gazing after him. "This is a bad idea."

"Yeah, I know, you've told me before." She parrots, slowly slipping off in his direction. She pauses for a moment, turning to face me. "Do me a favor and tell Jane where I went, she should be back here soon." I don't even have time to process her request fully before she slips off, into the crowd without a second glance over her shoulder.

As I watch her long brown hair disappear in the crowd. I'm confronted with two powerful emotions, concern for Anna and whatever that pig-headed snot is going to do to her, and concern for me and what Jane is going to do to when she finds out Anna left her in my care.

…

_Zach_

There's still a picture on my headboard, one of Jane. Glancing at it now, the memories are still as fresh as the day I took that. She was laughing, the summer breeze whipping through her hair gently, the sun catching the subtle lightened tone that always made its presence known as the season wore on. We weren't doing anything special, just relaxing at the park, as both of us had wanted to get the hell away from our families' for a while. She had kissed me, and I was still getting used to the fact that we were allowed to do that now, since we weren't "just friends" anymore. The sun on my skin and the laughter in the air inspired me for a moment, and I had pulled out my camera that I had somehow remembered to shove into my bag. The moment she saw it, she weakly pushed me back, even though I'm sure she's was putting all her weight into the shove. I knew she hated having her picture taken, something about not liking the way she smiled, but i didn't care, I wanted to keep the memory for as long as possible. Laughing whimsically, she had tried to shield her face, until I had pinned her hands down with just one of mine, and quickly snapped the picture. The laughter was so clearly written out on her face, and I used to look at the print almost constantly, when ever she wasn't around.

My mom hates it, in fact, she's made multiple attempts to have the cleaning lady come in and "accidentally" throw it out. Glancing at my dresser across the room, I walk over; attempting to be stealthy with regard to my mother down the hall, and dug to the bottom of one of the drawers, pulling out the sweater Jane had left at my old house before we both left that town. I run my fingers over the soft fabric, remembering how it had felt against my fingers when I had hugged her to me that one last time. Even then we were feeling everything falling apart, I was moving within the next few weeks, and things just kept getting worse.

I went to return the sweater to her house after that night in my car, but her mom claimed she wasn't home and then soon after, they were both nowhere to be found. Now I know why. Jane had always had rocky family stuff going on, what with her dad dying when she was so young. The last thing she need was another tragedy, and from the hard edge to her personality, I have a feeling she took it just as badly as I'm hoping she wouldn't. There's still an ache when I think about our past, but for the most part, I'm moving on, I had forgiven myself a while ago, now I just want to make peace with her, just to ease my conscience a little.

The fact that she flees when I get within a three-mile radius of her isn't too promising in that aspect. I sigh a little and eye my keys, knowing Palmer's party is tonight, which might be the perfect thing to get my mind of all my heavy thinking.

AN: Thank you so much guest for you review about the song "Better" by Jennette Mccurdy, it was really helpful. I also listen to "All too Well" & "I Almost Do" by Taylor Swift and "Change Your Mind" by Boyce Avenue.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Jane

I didn't even want to go to this stupid party. I don't know how Artemis found out about it, but when she insisted that it would be the perfect opportunity to immerse myself into high school society, I knew I couldn't say no, not without completely disobeying her orders and ruining my binds to the hunters, even Fabio was looking at me expecting, I swear to the gods, when antelopes start pressuring you: you know your life is messed up.

I've never liked parties, even when I was in Phoenix, I was always dragged along, and even then, I wasn't much of an active participator. The only one who could even get me to talk at parties was… Zach, but that was only brief exchanges, mostly just murmured to him. It isn't that I'm anti social, or at least I wasn't, but the idea of standing in a room with a bunch of teenagers that are practically strangers, most of whom are under the influence of one thing or another, never really appealed to me.

After joining the hunters, I can't say my opinion on parties has changed. Thalia once told me a about a shelter for Half Bloods out in New York, where apparently the parties would get pretty crazy. Not that Thalia would ever take part in such immature, silly behavior. However, sometimes I have to wonder if she ever did get a little crazy and make stupid decisions. I've had mine, they just weren't at a party.

The parties weren't the only stories Thalia told, she mentioned once, that most of the time, your godly parent classified where you were in the ranks of society. That doesn't make much sense to me, but apparently that's how it is. Recently, a son of Poseidon did a lot to help with the discrimination, but I sure as Hades know that I wouldn't want to get anywhere near there, haven or not, not with my parentage. With the Hunter's it doesn't even matter, we serve Artemis first and foremost, quite a few of us aren't even demigods, so it's just not important anymore.

Now sitting in the car with Anna, after asking for a ride, I can't help but send out a silent prayer to get this over with quicker. She seemed skeptical at first over the fact that I actually wanted to go, even after I confirmed that she did, in fact, plan on going. She said something about how she wouldn't miss this party if she were tied to a truck going in the opposite direction. I was more than a little surprised that she was so passionate about a party. I wouldn't have pictured her as a party girl.

When we pull up to the address (which happens to be just a little smaller than Zach's old place), I'm wondering if maybe her determination had nothing to do with the party. She immediately migrates to the corner after some chatting with different girls. She introduces me to each girl of course, smiling politely. After each girl leaves, most people would start listing off annoying traits about them, but Anna doesn't, and I have to wonder if she has a mean bone in her body. We apparently make it to our destination, and she picks up a water bottle, glances at it, probably to be sure it's sealed, before pouring it into an empty red solo cup. I raise an eyebrow and she takes a sip before answering my wordless question.

"People tend not to shove a beer in your hand if you already look like your drinking." She explains, and I nod before mirroring her actions. "So how'd you meet Marcus?" She asks, and I almost spit out my water.

"He's in some of my classes." I explain, though that doesn't seem to even come close to covering the whatever it is that's going on between us. I feel a little blush gathering on my cheeks at that thought. How decidedly misleading that thought is. If Artemis heard that Marcus would end up as a antelope. "What's your connection with him?" I ask, hurrying to divert the attention from me. She seems distracted for a moment as she glances over at the door. Her expression drops and she looks as if someone just killed her dog or something.

"Oh, yeah... um Marcus, yeah… we've been friends since we were little," She grins a little bit. "I'm his honorary older sister, despite what he'll say about me being the younger sibling." She's once again back to regular, perky, Anna, almost making me forget about the little glitch there. I stash it away in the back of my mind, reminding myself that Anna very easily could be who I'm looking for.

"Are there any biological siblings in the mix?" I ask her, trying to probe without actually probing. I never had to be this secretive before this crazy quest, and I don't think I like it.

"I've got an older sister, but Marcus is an only child." She looks at me for a moment, eyeing me as if wondering whether I've got something up my sleeve. I try to train my features into the most innocent expression I can muster, and have to wonder if I'd trust myself. Anna seems to come to a different conclusion than I would and continues. "His family situation is kind of messed up, I wouldn't mention it if I were you." That piques my interest, but not enough for anything conclusive. Zach has me much more worried, he was adopted and he even told me that his parents let it slip that one biological parent was never in the picture: which isn't uncommon when it comes to demigods. Let's just hope I have nothing to be suspicious of.

"Families are rough. " The words seem to have their own independent thought and purpose, because I certainly didn't mean to say them aloud. Though I know they're very true, especially when I consider my family, I mean how do you deal with a family that "when I was your age" was millennia ago?

Zach

I'm in the car, driving to the party when _that_ song comes on, and my hands clench on the wheel in a death grip. I freeze for a moment trying to decide what my reaction means. A few weeks ago, I was able to listen to the same song with a smile on my face and even hum along to the tune. The song had always conjured happy memories, and the occasional bittersweet ones, but I haven't felt this … unsettled since we broke up. Maybe it's just because I saw her again, and that things still weren't right, despite my efforts.

Maybe I'm just confrontational, but I can't help the itch to just want to get Jane to talk to me, just once, and try if not to make things right, just make things better. The next chance I get, I'm going to see if I can talk things out with her. _That worked so well before. _I mentally quip remind myself not to let her get in a punching distance of me.

A/N: Sorry for the recent delays in updating my schedule should be picking up shortly.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

A/N: Thank you to the guest who suggested the song "Warrior" by Demi Lovato, I kind of fell in love with it while writing this chapter. The other songs were "Now" by Paramore and "Fighter" by Christina Aguilera. Also, I love this band Boyce Avenue, and their song "Change Your Mind" has been my anthem for Marcus for a while now.

I just wanted to send out a notice, if you want to know when the next update is coming out, you can always check my profile, I have the story that I'm currently in the process of updating posted.

_Marcus_

There's a strange awkwardness when you're standing at the fringe of a party, not to mention when you're (gasp) not drinking at a High School Party. It's not too awkward when you're with people but standing by yourself, waiting for a girl who hates you to get back, might just be the worst kind of hell. anticipation has me watching the crowds to distract myself.

Hannah from my gym class, and that sophomore, Jason, I think it is, slip out from among the throng, grinning as they go off alone into one of the rooms off a long hallway. One of the seniors, Paul, is with the third girl of the night, real classy, that guy. Not so surprisingly, he Zach, and I have been buddies since Zach moved to our lovely little town. Cassidy and Mia are sending me eyes from across the room, despite my not too subtle lack of interest. It's strange how the bustle of everyday life looks when you get a little perspective.

I skim my eyes through the crowd, looking for Jane's signature mop of short brown hair. It's almost an impossible feat to find her, considering how easily she blends in and how good she is at disappearing. She tries so hard to remain unnoticed, and it works disturbingly well. How can people not notice her, how can they not see the ache in those green eyes? Suddenly those very same green eyes appear in my line of vision.

Jane apprehensively makes her way across the room, her brow furrowed with confusion as she looks around for Anna. Her jaw sets when she realize Anna's gone, and something chilling comes over her as she's sees me standing where her friend was last. I swallow anxiously, and resist the urge to back away, possibly screaming. Finally, she stops her progression, and stares me down, just out of arm's reach.

I see her mouth moving but I can't hear her over the drone over the music and the shouting of the crowds. I shake my head, cupping my hand around my ear to try to show that I can't hear her, as some oh-so-coordinated- moron slams into her from behind, and sends her sprawling the extra distance to me. I try to steady her by holding her shoulders (okay maybe that wasn't my _only_ intention), but she quickly shakes off my gentle grip, and moves to stand beside me. She repeats herself now, finally in hearing distance, and I send a silent thank you to the clumsy buffoon.

"Where's Anna?" She asks, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, and her eyes strategically avoid mine. I skim my eyes over her outfit for tonight: a pair of jean shorts and a tank top. While the tank top's looser, those jean shorts are clinging to her every little curve, not that I would even dream of complaining about that, what can I say, I can appreciate the beauty of the human body.

"She ran off with Jonathan Trenton." I explain, eyeing the cup in her hand until I remember Anna's little trick. She shrugs at me and takes a sip from her glass, and I just catch the clear liquid that I'm going to assume is water at this point. I have a feeling Jane wouldn't be so passive if I asked her about it.

"Should I know who that is?" She asks, leaning in so she's practically speaking in my ear. Her warm breath creates a tickling sensation, and chills race across my skin, hopefully, she didn't notice. I shrug back, repeating her motions, and push her hair away so I can get at her ear. She flinches as my fingers skim the sensitive skin, but I pretend not to notice.

"Probably not, but you will. He's a senior, and he's spent more time with the chief of police than the chief's wife has." I joke a little, smiling at her, and the corners of her lips lift a fraction of an inch, before she bites her lip, and all traces of amusement disappear entirely. A feeling not unlike mourning hits me at that disappearance of my miniscule shred of hope, but hidden or not, I know it's still there, somewhere.

"You're worried about her." She observes, and I almost tell her the truth, that I'm worried about the both of them, but then she breaks eye contact, and moves her hair off her neck and away from her ear, as if expecting my response, but hoping to avoid any real contact between us. The uncomfortable gesture makes me nervous; I don't want to scare her, god no; I'd never want to scare her like that. I shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans, half so that she won't notice my fidgeting, and half to set her nerves at ease. She raises an eyebrow at me, and I realize she's been waiting for an answer while I've been contemplating the meaning of life.

"I am, she's always… rational… you know?" I stumble over my words, unsure exactly how to describe the unnatural phenomenon that is Anna and Jonathan Trenton, thankfully, Jane nods in understanding, and I can stop my floundering. "That all goes out the window when he's involved." I run a hand through my hair, knowing it's sticking up in a billion and three directions, but I can never quite resist. Jane looks at me again, appraising me, with one eyebrow raised as she does so.

"You really care about her, don't you?" She seems surprised by this, and though she shouldn't be all that shocked, it's not the first time someone's posed a question to the same effect. Generally, people are surprised when they realize Anna and I are as close as we are. Something about the straight A student princess and the "dangerous" guy from the wrong side of the tracks doesn't make sense to them. Hmmm, I wonder why?

"She's family, for all intents and purposes." I shrug, Jane nods, though her eyes show no real comprehension. "Didn't you ever have person that's always been there?" I ask her, and when she shakes her head, sympathy for her washes over me, I don't know what I'd do without Anna, or at least someone in my life I knew I could count on.

"Don't look at me that way!" She hisses, her eyes narrowing, as if the goal is to make me explode into a million pieces just with the power of her eyes. I have to refrain from stepping back, sensing trouble.

"What way?" I ask; I didn't even realize I had done anything wrong, for god's sakes!

"Like I'm so puppy that got hit by a car." Her voice breaks, and for a second I think I might be crazy enough to see her eyes watering. "I don't need your pity! Or anyone else's for that matter!" Her voice drops in volume rapidly, and she almost mutters to herself "I _hate_ pity."

"Okay, okay, I didn't realize… I just thought it was sad that you didn't have anyone to rely on, okay, I didn't mean to offend you." I put my hands up on either side of my head, as if I'm surrendering. It doesn't last long before I end up running my hand through your hair.

"I have people," She crosses her arms over her chest stubbornly. "I have… sisters." She turns away from me as she says that, and I get the feeling I'm missing something, something big here.

"Okay, I didn't know, I'm sorry." I repeat and shetakes a sip from her cup before surveying the room again, and unlike Anna, there's something clearly predatory in her eyes, almost like she's looking for something, and not something pleasant either. "Why does that set you off so badly?" I ask before I can stop myself. _Sure Marcus, poke the lion with a stick, finally get it to calm down and then remind it that you poked it, good plan: real good plan._

"It's a long story." She dodges the question with the subtly of a Shakira music video, but now I can't let it go. _Stupid stubborn Marcus._

"We have time. " I remind her, and she doesn't seem to like it but she doesn't seem to be ready to kill me again either, so I must gaining some ground here. Her hand tightens around the drink in her hand, and she starts tugging at the bottom edge of her shirt again, so I know she doesn't want to answer, but when she looks up at me again, I think she's going to.

"Umm, after my mom…" She starts, but suddenly her eyes go wide, and she freezes, and I wonder for a split second if she's breathing before I look over my shoulder and see Zach right behind me.

"Hey, what's going on?" he says to me in greeting and then squints, trying to make out Jane in the dim lighting. "And who are you my pr-" His line is cut off as the moon peeks out from behind a cloud in the window and briefly illuminates Jane's face. "Jane?"

Anna

"Is this a good idea?" I ask, as he grins at me over his shoulder, and takes his big, rough hand in my soft delicate contrast is startling, but all the better for it.

"No." He pulls me out the back door and around the side of the house, as I start thinking bout how embarrassing it would be if we got caught back here, and what Marcus will think if I disappear from the party all together. Abruptly, he turns and wraps his arms around my waist and presses me against the white siding of the house. "But I missed you too much to care." He concludes, and I start thinking about my Dad and college and how stupid this is, and how nothing this passionate and dramatic can last and... Then his hand is in my hair, and my rapid thoughts skid to a shuttering halt . All too slowly, his mouth lowers on to mine and my brain starts up again, on an entirely new, much more pleasant train of thought.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

_Marcus_

Zach has this expression on his face, as if I'd just told him Jane is really a dude, or something equally disturbing. Then his expression hardens, his eyes blazing as he turns towards me. They flick back to Jane for a moment and a muscle in his jaw flexes.

"Could you give us a moment?" He asks, and I take a step back, feeling slightly guilty. Jeez, we were just talking; I'm allowed to do that, _right_? "Not you, Marcus." My eyes widen a little, surprised that he wouldn't want to try to work things out with Jane. We really don't need more tension in our lives. There's already enough turmoil spinning around without any added on craziness.

Jane seems to tense as she realizes that Zach is addressing her with his request, but nods and walks away, all without meeting his eyes. I watch her leave warily, wondering how much of a wedge this will create and what she was going to tell me before Zach got in the way. More than a little irritated by his intrusion, I turn towards Zach, the question obviously written across my face.

"Listen," He starts, fidgeting angrily to outlet his clear frustration. "I don't really care what girls you go after, just…. don't mess with Jane okay, anyone else… whatever, just not Jane." This is getting ridiculous. Zach is never this possessive, especially not with a girl. It's a ridiculous request though, according to him, it's been over six months since everything went down between the two of them, and he's moved on, but if that's true, why is he still claiming her like this? It's like some caveman thing: that's a pretty funny image Zach and I holding clubs and wearing hides as togas. Anna would tell me I'm impossible to take seriously, and maybe I am, but honestly, this situation is too ridiculous.

"Zach, you know I don't want to cause any trouble but nothing's going on and Jane doesn't have a problem with me talking her as of right now, so…." I trail off, shrugging my shoulders. The fire flames back into his eyes but he shrugs, knowing he can't fight me on this one. He doesn't have a leg to stand on.

"Fine… whatever" He grumbles and slips away into the crowd without looking back. I know he's not happy about our little standoff, but it doesn't seem like that big of deal to me, I'm not planning on trying anything with Jane, so it shouldn't be this whole fiasco, right?

…

_Zach_

I spot her tell-tale brown locks from across the room, and hurry to her side, not knowing when I'd get another chance like this. My eyes widen a little as I see the drink in her hand, Jane never drank, more often than not if we were at a party together, not only would she not drink, but she'd always get so nervous when I had a drink or two that I didn't even bother half the time. It just wasn't worth it. Now she's clutching the dingy red solo cup as if she's a jockey in the Kentucky Derby and the cup's the reins. Her grip definitely doesn't relax as she notices my approach, but on the positive side she doesn't run in the opposite direction, so I'm making progress at least. It's small progress but still progress is progress, and I'm well aware I'm grasping at straws, but I've accepted it at this point.

"I'm really getting sick of this," is her, oh so friendly, greeting. The warmth that used to radiate from her constantly is long gone from her tone, instead there's this undercurrent of distaste, as if it physically sickens her to just be in my presence. She used to glow when she saw me, now, she seems to darken, and that weight on my shoulders gets a bit heavier.

"I don't want to fight either," I assure her, and she looks so sad for a moment, but then he expression hardens into a cold mask that I could barely believe she's capable off.

"Do you remember the last time you said that to me?" She asks suddenly, her voice much more revealing than her expression. There's pain laced in every syllable and she releases the death grip on her cup to pull her arms closer into her body, as if she needs to protect herself from me. The distrust hurts, even though I understand it, I don't like it. I process her words slowly, but then the memory shatters on top of me, slicing my skin as it does.

"The night before the party with Madison," I remember, my tone somber and my eyes cast down, I can't look at her as I think about that night. Maybe this wouldn't make me feel so horrible if it were anyone other than Jane that I screwed over. She had always been genuine and sincere with everything she did, but she never saw any of those good traits. She was always so hard on herself, and I knew that would only get worse after she found out about my mistake. Another girl would've bounced back with an "F*** You" thrown over her shoulder on her way out the door, but Jane, somehow, managed to turn it back on herself. With everything else spiraling around her, I knew I shouldn't tell her about it, but then she was looking at me, and she told me... what she told me. I couldn't keep lying to her, not when she was being so honest with me. Now, being honest and open seems to be the last thing on her mind.

"We had been fighting so much, and at the time, I really meant it." I tell her, rubbing my temples just from the memory of the stress of those last few weeks together. We had been at each other's throats, fighting about me leaving at the end of the month, and we both said these awful things to each other.

"Oh yeah, you meant it so much that you hooked up with the first hussy you could find." Her eyes are sharp and cutting as she looks at me, as if she's imagining slicing me into a billion pieces.

"It wasn't like that." I promise. "I hated all that stuff you had said about me the day before and then I got drunk… and Madison was just an escape from everything going on." I'm desperate to make her see it for what it was: an idiotic mistake and not something that should define either of us or our history together.

I'm not one of those guys who can just toy with girls like puppets on a string, and if I was, there's no way I could ever intentionally do that to Jane. It took forever and a day to stop hating everything and everybody for what happened, and I refuse to continue to let Jane go down that road.

"You said some harsh stuff too, Zach, don't try to pretend any different, but_ I_ didn't go falling into bed with other guys for comfort…. I could've but I didn't."Her shoulders curl in as she speaks, and I know her well enough to recognize when the anger's starting to fade, and she starting to break down, but I can't let this all remain unsaid.

"No, instead you didn't speak to me for days and hid to avoid taking responsibility." The words are out before I can stop them, and her hand tightens into a fist and I can tell she's _this_ close to punching me.

"You're right, yours was a much more mature reaction: cheat, pretend nothing's wrong, tell a pretty story to get back on to my good side, lie some more, and then pull me into the back of your car to allow me to further make an idiot out of myself." Her eyes narrow and clearly angry as she steps a bit close, the fight back in her gaze. Her words going for the jugular, by reminding me of those moments in the car before my confession. Everything had seemed so perfect, and even though I knew it wasn't fair to be with her like that with a secret hovering between us, I wanted it; I wanted to pretend everything was perfect just as much as she did.

"Jane, you meant so much to me, and I cared so much about you…." I try to explain everything that was going on in my head, but before I can finish, her hand is flying towards my face, smacking me hard enough to leave a mark and a definite sting.

"Don't you dare, don't you dare pretend I meant anything to you, I won't be lied to." She hisses, tears pricking at her eyes, I try to stop her, but she's already disappearing into the crowd.

_AN: Originally, I didn't really like this chapter, but now I'm pretty proud of it. I'd be ecstatic to get fifty reviews and if this story gets there, I can promise some excellent fluffiness in the near future. Also, what do you guys think of the Anna/ Trenton scenario, should I keep it or ditch it?_


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